


Toccata and Fugue

by draculard



Category: The Sibling - Adam Hall
Genre: F/M, Fluff with just a hint of angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Lust for Danger, Referenced violence, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Relationships, playing the piano together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 18:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20782883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: "You don't play Bach very often," Debbie says.





	Toccata and Fugue

“You don’t play Bach very often,” Debbie says. 

Raff doesn’t look up at her. His eyes are glued to the piano; he mimics Uncle Ivan’s erect posture, his signature way of dragging his fingers down the keys. 

“It’s best with two people,” he says, his tone absent, almost dismissive. She moves closer, tilting her head to read the music: Toccata and Fugue in D Minor.

“Isn’t this for an organ?” she asks.

Finally, Raff glances up at her, his mouth curved in a half-smile. “That’s why I said it’s best with two.”

She eyes him as he plays — his dark hair and dancing eyes, his pale pink lips, his high cheekbones and aristocratic nose. She searches for any trace of the little boy who used to torment her, and all she can conjure up in her mind is a stranger with his face twisted and ugly from hate.

“You should ask Uncle Ivan to play it with you,” says Debbie, and Raff chuckles.

“_He _ could certainly play it by himself.”

Debbie sits next to him on the piano bench, arranging her pleated skirt so it falls artfully over her thighs. The rough material of her sweater catches on the wool of Raff’s, binding them together for just an instant.

She puts her hands on the keys. She narrows her eyes at the music.

“I’m really much better at violin,” she says.

He puts his hand over hers and guides it further down the keyboard. “You’ll be fine,” he says, and when she looks into his eyes and sees his gentle smile, she knows he means it.

_ Where did you come from? _ she thinks. _ What did you do with my brother? _

She waits for him to tighten his grip on her hand, to squeeze until she can feel her bones grinding together — to force her forward and smash her teeth against the keys, to pin her against the piano, to twist her arm until her elbow breaks. She knows it won’t happen, but at the same time, she’s daring him to, her whole body vibrating, on edge.

If he just hurt her again, just once, just a little, this tension would go away.

But all he does is smile and guide her hand over the keys.


End file.
